Saturday, January 24, 2015

ICY COLD

Ice Fire


Cold.
Icy cold.
Toes are numb.
Fingers are tingling.
I can see my breath.
I can hear the wind blowing.
Whipping past my face.
I’m getting tired.
But I must continue on.
To the top of the hill.
The view is waiting for me.
I can’t disappoint it
or myself.
Only a few more steps.
And…
It has taken my breath away.
The colors.
The sharp edges.
Prettier than a picture.
Perfect in its beauty.

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